A Different Kind of Crazy
by Me
Summary: AU. What if Huckleberry Finn and Jim had gotten to Illinois? A different part of civilization confounds Huck even while helping them, but years later he finds an eccentric to help him thumb his nose at it before finally finding peace in the midst of disaster


A/N: A college professor I had once opined that Mark Twain had Huck and Jim go south because in his words, "What could a twelve-year-old boy do to help a runaway slave?" In this AU, we see something could have been done after all, though it would drive Huck nuts at the same time. And, who knows, Mark Twain could have used one part of this; he was familiar with Emperor Norton, after all, and the King and Duke may have been inspired by him.

You can how I had things happening for Huck after the book in my fic "The Further Adventures of Huckleberry Finn." It was written almost 20 years ago, this was written as a "timeline in a day" for an alternate history site (mentioned in a couple other fics) but then fleshed out some; still, length of time from reading Huckleberry Finn means I might not have the dialogue quite right. Still, I hope it's fun for you. Oh, and yes, Governor Carlin is a real historical figure.

A Different Type of Crazy

"Boy, Jim, it's a good thing you had that crazy dream," I told Jim as I spied city lights to our left.

Yes, left. I knew what that meant – north! Well, okay, we was headin' south, so left was technically east, but – well, just trust me on this, will ya?

Oh, yeah, my name's Huckleberry Finn. You might know me from my travels with Jim down the Mississippi. Well, in this here timeline, we actually make it to freedom. Except it takes a while longer 'cause… well, you'll see. So, back to the story.

"What crazy dream, Huck?" Jim asked as we swiftly maneuvered our craft as best we could toward those lights.

The lights were from Cairo, Illinois. Illinois, a free state. In other words, Jim wouldn't have to be a slave anymore, at least I reckoned he didn't. That's why they said it was a free state, wasn't it?

"You was bustin' up about some big ol' sawmill," I explained. "You was afraid we was sailin' right into it or somethin'."

"That's 'cause you started snorin', Huck," Jim teased me lightly.

I was flabbergasted. "I never snored a day in my life."

"Well, Huck, how do you know if you snored or not, if you was asleep?"

"You was asleep, too," I explained as we pushed with all our might. We were probably going to crash the raft, but we didn't care; it wouldn't help us any once we got on dry ground.

"Yeah, but I heard that saw mill goin on an' when I woke up, there it was in your mouth," Jim insisted.

I didn't want to quibble. But, I never could imagine why I'd start snorin'. I mean, the Widow never said I snored where I'd lived for a while, till Pap tried to kipnap me – well, he did, but it didn't last so I say it was a failure. I wasn't going to let anyone treat me like that. I know how people are supposed to act, and Pap was nothin' like what real people should be. I mean, Jim was a million times nicer.

He didn't deserve to be a slave. And, I was determined to make sure he wasn't.

So, I got Jim to what I thought was an escape from slavery via the Underground Railroad. We got him up to Springfield. I didn't really know where I wanted to go, except away from civilization. That meant going West. Instead, I was going north. But, I really wanted to help Jim, so I was willing to take a detour. Besides, up in Canada it was probably even more sparsely populated than the U.S.. Maybe if I went far enough north it'd be the same thing. Except, I'd heard it got a lot colder, an' I didn't want that.

Anyway, Jim had family, see, and he'd been wantin' to free them, too. While we was moving through Illinois he told me one of his girls was deaf, in fact. So, we needed to find a way to do it. Jim said he'd heard where there was attorneys that could help. We were hidin' in an old shed outside Springfield when he brought up the idea. I wasn't so sure; I wanted to do this myself. I didn't know who I could trust.

"Huck, there's people who will try to do the opposite, too, and sell me like they sold my family. We've got to start looking for someone we can trust. Now, here's what to do…"

His plan sounded good, but as I marched into town, I felt a little funny. I was supposed to find an honest attorney, one who could help a man find his family. That part, I didn't mind. But, if the guy was supposed to be honest, why couldn't I just tell him Jim was runnin' away and I was runnin' from Pap? Why wouldn't the guy have sympathy for us?

I asked a few people about the most honest attorney I could find, and I got mostly the same answer; and all of 'em at least mentioned him. So, I went with the one called Honest Abe.

"A. Lincoln, Esquire," I read aloud. I figured "esquire" was a funny foreign language word for attorney, but I didn't say anything. I just walked in really confident like Jim had told me to do and made an appointment. Then, I went and fetched Jim; he could see us in the afternoon.

"I knew you'd find one; does he seem nice?" Jim asked as we left our hideaway.

"Yeah, kinda melancholy, but I don't know why." Of course, maybe he was just as disgusted with the world as I was.

We entered the office and as we sat in his inner office I kinda lied about my age. He saw through it right away. "Son, you can fool some of the people some of the time, and you can fool some of the people all of the time, but you can't fool all of the people all of the time."

Well, I told him that was too many words for me all in a row. "Are you tryin' to be one of them wise guys like So-crates."

Actually, Huck," Jim said, "it's pronounced sock-rah-tees."

"What do I care?" I responded. ""Ain't much of a man who can't think of at least 2 ways to say somethin'."

Lincoln smiled and tried to make us feel welcome. He genuinely cared about people., I'll give him that. "I have heard former President Jackson has said the same thing about spelling."

"Well, he's right. I never did get all this education stuff," I told Lincoln.

"That may be true, young man, but if we go on spelling and pronouncing things in too many different ways, we shall cease to have a language, and be reduced to pointing and wild gyrations," he quipped in what would become part of his later well-known dry humor. "At any rate, the important thing is, can you apply what you do know? Presently, you are in a free state. I shall make inquiries as to the status of Jim's family for you, but in the meantime, I suggest you keep him concealed and remember that just because you are in free land doesn't mean someone won't try to take him back."

I didn't want to think about it, but I suppose in the back of my mind, I knew he was right. People just didn't care about knowin' Jim. Jim was a wonderful guy, a great friend. He seemed to know how to apply what he knew, like Lincoln said. That Lincoln fellow was okay, though I don't know why he thought I wasn't no twenty years old. People could be stunted by disease after all; didn't he know that? I didn't bother to ask, though.

"He sounds like a nice man," Jim remarked as we ate our supper back in the hideaway.

"I reckon you're right," I mumbled. "I was just hopin', you know, since this is free territory you'd be free for good, and people would respect that. But, yeah, there's probably some who make you go back." I sighed. "Maybe one of these here Presidential candidates can make a difference." The 1840 Presidential campaign was in full swing.

"You know anything about the men?"

I shrugged. "They're just names to me, I don't know. Sounds like they ran against each other four years ago, too," I told Jim. "You're think they already made up their minds, they should stick to it. Instead, some people are so mad they almost seem ready to fight over it!"

"They say this is what makes us better than places with kings," Jim said. "If the people get mad enough, they just throw the people out of office instead of having a revolution."

"Yeah, but they're not talkin' real sense. That one guy's sayin' he's better 'cause he grew up in a log cabin," I countered.

"It sounds crazy to me, too, but I guess he's trying to appeal to the poor. Anyway, speaking of needing money, are you plannin' to do some farm work to pay Mr. Lincoln off like he offered? Sounds like he knows some people who would hire both of us."

I felt some uncertainty, but it wasn't a horrible idea. It was better than school, after all. I could be outdoors, for one thing. "Yeah, I reckon I will. It'll take a couple weeks anyway, and that'll help pay off your portion faster since he said your part'll take more time. They'd keep you out of sight of any of them 'poachers' for now, anyway."

"That's good. I'll work for him, too." I could tell Jim was a little uncertain since his status was apparently different in different states. It was downright dumb if you ask me – if a man's free in one place he should be free everywhere. There had to be some sort of absolute authority that said that, because just calling it common sense didn't help when some people didn't have it.

"Well, then it's settled. As long as I don't need to get no civilizing."

The situation worked out well. It was a couple weeks till Mr. Lincoln sent us word that he'd like to meet with us, but in the meantime, we grew to like the fellow. He treated us well; let us eat there, too. Although, one thing really irritated me – once he asked me about somethin' to do with Jim, I forget what, but I told him in no uncertain terms that he was to ask Jim that because he was a free man. Our employer went directly to Jim after that, at least. He didn't like my attitude, but I'd told him how glad I was I wasn't gonna be forced to become civilized, so I suspect he was glad I wasn't any worse.

I was glad when Mr. Lincoln summoned us. Winter would get here before we knew it. The temperatures were already starting to get chilly in the evenings. And the temporary shelter Lincoln had found for us might not last.

As we walked in, I figured he'd located Jim's family and was ready to tell us how to get 'em, although I was still mad that he wouldn't just try on his own without all these legal maneuvers with all that Latin and stuff he talked about.

I ran into his office and sat before Jim could even get in the door. I was anxious to hear about it and leave. What Mr. Lincoln said nearly made me fall outta my chair...

"Master Finn," Lincoln said, "your friend, Jim, is a free man."

"Well, of course he is," I declared, "we're in Illinois."

"No, you misunderstand." Lincoln held up his hand as he spoke to Jim and mentioned how I was seeing everything in black and white, a sign of my most likely being younger than the 20 I'd claimed to be.

I tuned him out, but when Jim leaped in the air and shouted with incredible jubilation, I had no choice but to ask Lincoln to repeat what he'd just said as Jim sat again.

"I said that the widow's will freed Jim. I have ordered a paper sent to my office confirming this fact, which Jim can take with him wherever he goes as proof."

I smiled at Jim. "This is wonderful." I didn't know what to say. I'd begun to worry that it was going to be harder. In fact, as I told Lincoln appreciatively, "That's more than we asked you to do, but I guess that's why we're payin' you, to play them hunches." He nodded in agreement, and Jim added that now, he'd have a paper with proof he couldn't have had otherwise. "But," I inquired, "don't this prove things really are as easy as I told you?"

Lincoln smiled. "I must confess that I had misgivings about taking you on as a client, given your age. However, as I told those working with me, it may be that you are a runaway of some sort who was escaping some sort of vioence…" Something in my face must have let the cat out of the bag. I hadn't told him about Pap yet. "And, either way, that Jim was quite possibly your slave."

"What are you talking about? How could he be my…" I wasn't sure what to say.

"Huck, remember when our employer asked you if I was allowed to eat somethin', and you went off on him? I bet that's why he asked," Jim pointed out.

"I did mention that possibility to him, yes," Lincoln acknowledged. "Let's just say that, because I believed in your cause, I chose to frame my requests with that possibility in mind since I am personally opposed to slavery. And, it worked."

"I don't get all this trickery you're tryin' to tell me about – why, if I had Tom Sawyer helpin' me, I'm sure he wouldn't try to trick nobody like that," I blurted, not realizing how wrong I was. His plan would have just been a different kind of crazy. "Besides, if you believed in my cause…" Wait a minute, what did he think my cause was? All this legal stuff had me confused.

"Because you appeared to be lying about your age, I suspected there might be other things you withheld, too. However, this was not a courtroom where I had to present only the truth. I knew you were likely lying for a reason," Lincoln told me.

Jim looked sincerely at me and said, "You gotta tell him about Pap if you haven't." When I was silent, Jim responded to Lincoln's query. "Judge said Pap – Huck's dad - couldn't raise Huck anymore on account of his drinkin', but Pap kidnapped him."

"I see. It all makes sense now," Lincoln said. "So, Jim, whether you had escaped or not, I would have been able to help; one colleague speculated that you had escaped and kidnapped Master Finn, but I told him that was not possible because of what he revealed about the widow when I spoke with him privately; hence my inquiries about the status of her will." He turned back to me and said, "There was nothing to lose by engaging in such activity, as time was not of the essence, and much to gain. A lawyer's time and skill are his stock in trade, and I knew I could utilize that stock quite effectively."

"You must think your voice is one, too, with how much you talk," I spouted.

"I am merely explaining to you the complexities of the situation. As I noted, I believed from the start in your cause, and in fact had the widow's will not freed Jim, but instead given Jim to someone else, I would have been willing to help arrange for Jim to purchase his own freedom," Lincoln maintained. "At the time, however, Master Finn, your attitude reminded me of a man I knew who..."

I was really mad, so I didn't let him start on one of his humorous stories, even if it would have eventually had a point. "Look, I don't want complexities, you said you'd have helped Jim buy his freedom, now help him buy his family's!"

Lincoln sighed wearily. "I suppose you do not want to hear my thoughts on whether there might be conflicts of interest."

"What's that?" I felt like I'd wandered into a bizarre world that was totally unlike anything I'd ever seen. Did lawyers do this all the time?

"If I handle your situation – which I now know to be a minor of twelve, perhaps thirteen years of age - and his, could there be a situation in which the best interest of the one would come into conflict with the best interest of the other? If there could be, I cannot represent both of you unless I obtain a written waiver stating that you – or preferably, a guardian, although there does not appear to be one available at this moment - understand and agree to accept my representation regardless of any conflict."

I glared at him. "You lawyers just don't stop talking, do you?"

Jim spoke up. "Huck, I don't think there'd be any, but either way, I think we oughta just sign them papers Mr. Lincoln mentioned, and get on with this."

"Oh, all right." I'd never really thought of Jim as a person before we escaped together, but now, I was starting to see just how ridiculous some of these people were who put people like him down. And, he seemed to have some pretty solid ideas. I didn't understand the papers this Lincoln fellow drew up, though. Jim couldn't even read the things, so Lincoln had to explain it for him. They still didn't make sense to me after that.

Still, one of Lincoln's notions seemed right proper, at least. Apparently, all he'd had to do was contact the courthouse where they had the widow's will and they told him what it said; that's when he requested that thar paper Jim was gettin' sent to him sayin' he was free. Someone also asked about me in that letter back tellin' about the will, and he claimed any information about me was confidential but that I was indeed alive. I'd told him I didn't want my whereabouts known; now he knew why, of course, but he hadn't known about Pap earlier, an' how I was afraid he could come after me. He called it attorney-client privilege. I gotta admit, them lawyers can't stop talkin', but they do care about people; at least, this one did.

"As I mentioned, Master Finn, I will certainly continue to keep your whereabouts confidential, especially now that I know the precise nature of the problem. I am also getting information on where your family was sold, Jim, and once I track down the people, we can arrange for a more permanent job for you so you can have the money to purchase their freedom," Lincoln pledged. "As for you, Master Finn, I believe it best for you to either apprentice someplace or better for me to try to find a home for you."

He'd said this despite the glare he knew would come from me. I'd been driven crazy enough by the fact I'd had to work to pay him like I had, though I'd been perfectly willing to do that, not only for Jim but also 'cause I figured he could maybe help me stay hidden. And, it sounded like he would. Now, I was really itching to get out of there. After I worked for a few more days, I tried to figure out just how I could walk away. I didn't want this Mr. Lincoln getting' involved too much in my business by tryin' to make me live somewhere.

It was too late, though. He showed up soon after word reached us about Harrison's victory. "Master Finn, this is Governor Carlin," he introduced me. "Governor, this is the boy I was telling you about, Huckleberry Finn."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," the governor said.

I rolled my eyes. Was he going to try to civilize me now? This Lincoln fellow seemed nice, but he'd kept the relationship completely professional, so I didn't mind tellin' him stuff. But, I didn't care for no family, especially one with so many kids. He'd end up with twelve altogether before he was done.

Governor Carlin was nice, though. I could tell he was way different than Pap. "Huckleberry, is it? Come with me, I'm sure you'll really enjoy it in our home. Where are you staying now?"

Lincoln smiled. "You gave me some clues, but I told you I won't reveal it if you don't want. However, your answers at times have a way at times of sending me on a treasure hunt for what you actually mean, so you may as well be honest."

"Some old shed somewhere." I sighed. I reckoned it had been a bit lonely since Jim had rented his own place, and I didn't want to leave now; the weather was really getting chilly. So, when Lincoln told me to give the governor a chance, I did.

I heard all kinds of crazy stuff there. Oh, they was a wonderful family and all, and I really did appreciate how they said they'd adopt me, but the politics was ridiculous. Seems Harrison was going to be President because he'd been the Hero of Tippecanoe. That was a big thing in Illinois, but it didn't make no sense to me. Was he going to fight wars as President by himself? Well, apparently, he wanted to show he could, because he didn't last more than one month in office on account of he spoke for two hours in cold, pouring rain without a topcoat. Some said he was tryin' to show how tough he still was despite his age, but with that long of a speech I thought he was just tryin' to sound like an ordinary lawyer.

Anyway, one of the governor's sons was about my age, a couple years younger. I didn't like the idea of stayin' with him; there was so many people there it was as bad as back at that school. Governor Carlin seemed like a nice guy, though, he warn't no drinker like Pap had been. Still, I just had trouble bonding with him or anyone; folks years later would say I might have had Attachment Disorder because of stuff that happened in my early years.

Still, it felt colder there than it had been in Missouri, so I stuck around till mid-April. It was better than being alone on the Plains. I didn't want to freeze. Besides, it would take a few months for Lincoln to do all that fact-finding about Jim's family, and I did want to be around to make sure he got them all there safely. Finally…

I entered Mr. Lincoon's outer office to see Jim with a number of other people.

"Here they are, Huck," Jim said with a big grin. "Just bought freedom for the last of them," he added as he beamed with pride. He seemed a little choked up. I gotta admit, I felt that way a touch, too.

"That's great, Jim." I wasn't sure what else to say.

Jim seemed a little uncertain, too. "Well, Huck… I just want to say thanks. You're one of the few white people who ever treated me like real people."

"I wish more people would, Jim," I concurred. "You're more like family than anyone I know."

"Not Governor Carlin an' his family?"

I shook my head. "They're nice an' all, but… too many rules, to much craziness. With all that politics an' stuff."

"Hey, if it was possible, Huck, I'd adopt you, seein' as you don't have a dad," Jim said.

"Yeah, but Pap'd try to mess things up, you know that," I contended.

"No, no, see, Mr. Lincoln found out about that, too. He just told me when I came in to get the last of my family," Jim informed me.

"He'd been shot on a riverboat; shot in the back, I believe they said. When I gave a description telling them to make sure of where he was, so he couldn't reach you, they said they hadn't heard from him, but then some months later, some authorities said that he'd been found downriver a ways on that boat," Lincoln told me.

I wasn't sure what to think. Except, that had sort of been one of those things that had kept me at the governor's as well, not wantin' to risk him comin' after me. More than anything, I was relieved. Lincoln quietly led the others into his inner office so Jim and I could talk.

"But, does it matter, Huck?" Jim thought the governor was really nice, too, from what he'd heard. "Sounds like you could stay there no matter what. I'm sure you'll get used to 'em; it ha'n't even been six months."

I wished he wouldn't bring that up. There was something of a feeling I had for them, something I couldn't quite describe. But, once the others were gone, I confided that, "I already left a note, Jim. I'm leavin. Now that I know about Pap, I'm positive."

"But, Huck, these people care about you," Jim said, almost pleading. He knew what it was like to not have a family around who cared about him.

I shook my head, wishing he wouldn't pressure me like this. I couldn't take all their rules, and I told him so.

"And, if you leave, you gotta work to get food," Jim reminded me.

I didn't care. "Look, I told 'em it wasn't their fault. They tried, but…" I really had trouble feeling much attachment to anyone because of my upbringing. But, I could stand to thank the person who had helped me the most, in my mind. "Thanks for all your help, jim."

I could tell he was choked up. "Thanks for your help, Huck. We'll be right here if you need us. And, we'll pray for you."

"Are you gonna tell me God loves me, too, like they try to?"

"it's true, Huck. We ain't promised a perfect world here; that's in Heaven."

I fumed slightly. "Well, if God's so powerful, why does He let people do such dumb stuff?"

"'Cause he forgives us. Besides, people use the crazy stuff for good, too; like how Mr. Lincoln used all that tricky lawyer talk to help us even when he didn't know the whole story."

"Yeah, I know; an' the governor an' his family are pretty decent. I just wish I could see see God strikin' people down for once instead of lettin' 'tem do all this cruel stuff."

"Then He'd have to strike us down when we're cruel," Jim said. He could tell I wasn't buying it, so he said something that seemed pretty foolish, but he said it anyway. "If you get in a big enough earthquake will you believe? Like that story about Elijah on the mountain, when he went through all that and then heard God'in a still, small voice?"

"Yeah, sure." I didn't really mean it, though maybe a little, just 'cause Jim seemed to be right about other stuff and the governor's family was really nice and believed in that. It kinda made sense how the world had been created perfect with no meanness but that man had brought sin into it because God gave him free choice to love and be kind and all that or not. I'd just seen too much of people using that the wrong way. "I know what people say about it being a relationship, an' not just religion, but the way I seen people like Pap acin'…"

"I know it's hard for you, Huck. But, just remember we're here for you," Jim repeated.

I walked away, not knowing what to say. I had a feeling he cared, just like I was starting to feel that thar governor did. But, I wanted… what was it? I didn't know.

Part of me, however, started thinkin' Pap got what he deserved, though. Maybe I wanted to see this whole world get what it deserved. I don't know. All I wanted was to just go down to Tom Sawyer's place and see him.

The only problem was I didn't know how to get to Tom Sawyer's place. I started to think Lincoln was right; I didn't really know what to do, and I needed some sort of roadmap. Some sort of structure in my life. I wasn't really paying any attention, so I just lived off the land and it felt like I'd just gotten started when I was way past where I wanted to be, out into uncharted territory, or what I thought was uncharted. I just hunted buffalo and ate berries and stuff from friendly Indians and pioneers.

After a few years, I eventually found my way to the west Coast. Then, lounging around at a place called Sutter's, I was one of the lucky guys who struck gold.

There was more gold than I could have imagined. I was in my early 20s, and striking it rich. But, what would I do with it?

So, I start getting this gold, and people are asking all kinds of questions. What will I do, do I have family, that sort of thing. I didn't know why these folks were interested in me, Huck Finn, and my welfare. But, I got the sense that a few people only wanted my money. So, I hired some security and got some addresses from the post office.

"We found what you wanted," the man at the post office said a while later when I stopped by. Tom Sawyer's, Jim's, and Mr. Lincoln's – he'd been in Congress by then but hadn't had his famous debates. Still, he was known enough that the clerk I talked to was a bit surprised.

"They're people who cared about me," was all I'd say. I really hoped he didn't try to pry into my business.

"Former Governor Carlin passed away recently, I'm afraid," he added upon handing me a scrap of paper with Carlin's address.

I pursed my lips. "Send it to his wife and kids if he has any left. And… tell them thanks for trying." What I really wanted was Western Union, but that wouldn't come around for a while. Still, he helped me get a message sent to them. "Oh, and, Jim's got a deaf girl, too. I better get some extra to him so he can take care of her."

Notice I never mentioned Jim's race? I was afraid of what people would do. As the decade wore on, and talk of a Civil War over slavery got louder and louder, I actually started to think more and more about enlisting, just to get rid of that horrible mess called slavery. However, I then learned the military had so many rules they made the widow's and the Governor's seem like nothing. So, I'd never go there. And, politics was dumb to me, too.

Then, I had an idea – all because some guy got real upset because he lost a court case and had to declare bankruptcy. The man's name was Joshua Norton. You know him better as Emperor Norton I of the United States. Yeah, he was a little eccentric, but he was a nice guy.

"Say," I told the man in a voice barely above a whisper as we spoke in a San Francisco salon, "I kept a bunch of gold I found. You want me to help you? We can show these people just how dumb their system really is."

He agreed. I became his biggest supporter. I used that gold I had stowed away to help him create his own currency and to start making proclamations in the area papers. Emperor Joshua Norton became a celebrity, and if it weren't for that kindly lawyer Mr. Lincoln winning the Presidency, I might have suggested we take our act to Washington.

Now, I knew he wasn't no real emperor. In fact, I suspect a lot of people did. But, what Lincoln had told me about fooling people was true, 'cause I guarantee there's people who were probably so dumb they believed he was the emperor of the U.S.. Of course, Congress was smart enough not to dissolve itself or anything. Same with the political parties later.

Now, whether he believed it himself, I leave it up to you. He didn't mean the country no harm, he just wanted to make people be nice and treat others with respect and such. He would talk and on and about stuff to anyone within earshot just like them lawyers and politicians back East.

But, I had other motives in supportin' him. I wanted to show the people just how dumb all this leadership and civilizing was.

So, I bought him a really bright, fancy uniform early in his emperorship. He paraded around like royalty, and I was one of his most loyal supporters. I was considered kind of an eccentric myself by this time, and so people joked that if he was nobody else's emperor, he was mine. And, he kind of was, although it wasn't 'cause I thought he should rule over us. I thought it was the perfect way to get people to see how nuts they were. It was fun to watch people do crazy things. Mr. Twain, who lived there for part of the time and whom I met then, enjoyed him immensely.

But, when Emperor Norton died in 1880, he was a pauper, and I didn't know what exactly to do with the rest of my money. I was in my 50s by then, I reckon.

I'd been watching baseball games for quite a while, though. I loved the genteel nature of the sport, the fact you could take your time with it. When a man named Albert Spalding proposed a world tour, I paid for it.

Why not, I decided. As someone would later write, "90 feet between the bases is the closest mankind has ever come to perfection."

As for me, I lived like more of a recluse, though I still ventured into the city. Jim's one boy sent me news of his death a few years after that world tour an' I sent my respects. His son mentioned in his letter about how Jim had kept praying I'd find what I wanted – and, they did, too. But, how was I going to know if I didn't know what it was myself? There certainly wasn't going to be no earthquake that would suddenly wake the world up – the world just kept right on going with all the awful stuff in it.

Well, that is, till April 18, 1906.

I was in the city of San Francisco conductin' business, and for some reason I couldn't sleep well. I laid awake thinking about this miserable world, all the claim jumpin' I'd seen out here and the like. It was no better than back East. Now that there was a city here, I'd come to do business when it was absolutely necessary, but I also liked to write letters to the editor from "one of Emperor Norton's old supporters" sayin' how corrupt everything was, and wishin' there was answers, wishin' someone would do somethin' about it. I'd learned to write some at the governor's, and got to know more thanks to the post office folks helpin' me when I sent all that gold to various places.

I went to my motel room desk and began to pen another one when the shaking began. It knocked me out of my seat. As I crawled toward the doorway trying to figure out how to get out of there, I wondered what could be going on. Once it stopped, I dashed out of the motel to see a huge mess of twisted buildings, some turned to rubble, many just contorted in ways my body hadn't been able to move in sixty years. Nearly eighty, I felt my heart poundin' out of my chest as I ran harder than I had in decades. I followed some people past one building moved two whole feet off its foundation – and this was a skyscraper, or at least what passed for one out here, though I'd heard there was bigger ones back East.

As we made a mad dash toward the safety of the ferry, Jim's last words to me flashed through my mind in between snippets of my own life - well, his last letter, an' even that his skids had written on account of readin' an' writin'came easier for them since they was younger, though Jim learned to do both to some extent, an' he always signed his name to 'em. He'd written, "I'm ready, Huck. Lived a good life. Yeah, you heard about this here Jim Crow throughout the South, an' how they never did learn their lesson. And, I know you're bitter about that and your Pap and how poor we are because we don't get very good treatment or jobs even here in Illinois.

"But, Huck, I'm rich. And, I'm not just talking about that mansion Jesus went to prepare for me because of my trusting Him and calling on Him to forgive me for my sins and come save me, like what I told you about being so mad at my little girl when she was plumb deaf. Huck, I'm rich because I own myself; I've owned myself for nearly half a century.

"This might be my last letter, Huck. Remember what I said, and what you promised. God'll judge this world someday. But, God didn't just call folks like Pap to repent. He called us all. But, there's a great preacher I heard once in Chicago named D.L. Moody. And he said God's first words to the first sinners were 'Where art thou.' He knew where they were; He just wanted to to come let Him forgive and change them. I hope you let Him take away your bitterness before it's too late."

I never did get his optimism, how he could say he was rich even when people still mistreated him. But, as I left on the ferry and saw the entirety of San Francisco appear to be engulfed in flames two things came to my mind.

The first was, "There must have been lots of people like Pap and…" The list of stuff I was bitter at could have filled a thousand books. The world was so messed up.

The second was, "If judgement's this bad, I need forgiven now." For stuff like how I wanted to betray Jim an' lie to get reward money and stuff was horrible. So, I bowed my head in a single, sincere prayer of repentance. I'd had questions my whole life; now I finally had peace.

My chest was still bouncing around like crazy later that day. Still, I found a piece of paper and a pen. And, I began to write – I figured I'd better address Jim's grandson, on account of he said his dad was ill in his last letter.

"Tell your dad I'll see Jim soon," I wrote. "I finally have that peace he talked about." I still didn't understand a whole lot. The world still made no sense to me. But, as awful as that earthquake was – and I sensed that I might not live to see the city totally rebuilt – at least I'd seen somethin' bein' done about it. Still, I knew I'd been lucky to live through it. As I closed my letter, I added a PS: "If this isn't God's judgement, I hate to imagine what that'll be like!"


End file.
